𝑰𝑵𝑲 • 𝑻𝒆𝒘𝒌𝒆𝒔𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒚 / 𝑳𝒐𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒈𝒆

Comedown

Etch a letter upon my cheek

A fingerprint across my chest

You run your hands along my jaw

Against my heart your head does rest

—————

Heat.

It rushes through me like a chill. A burning sensation that shoots through my arm, passing my shoulder and tightening in my chest.

The same way you run a hot bath, and watch as steam rises from the water and wisps around in the air. You go so step inside and submerge a toe first, or perhaps your braver, stepping in straight away.

At first, it almost feels cold. But it isn't. And as soon as things settle and you begin to feel things they way they really are, you need to step back.

Before you get burned.

His hand caresses the side of my neck, thumb rubbing gently against the skin that sits just below my ear. The metal of his rings feel refreshing in contrast to the warmth of his palm on my skin.

My own fingers brush through his hair, feeling it for the first time at a shorter length. He'd decided to keep it like this. I never much liked the long locks anyways. But he's here now, and I can feel him and hold him and pull him in, hearing the way his breathing becomes jagged each time I reach back in.

I revel in the feeling of his lips against mine. The way they draw me in and simultaneously push me back. It's slow a supple and everything about him is perfect. It always has been.

But the best part about it, is finally knowing that he wants this as much as I do, if not more.

The newborn sun glows against my skin, making me see orange. It melts what is left of the winter night by my feet and trim of my skirt soaks in the remnants. Spring will be here soon enough. Flowers will bloom, the air will warm, and he'll be here with me this time. He wouldn't leave me again.

We break apart gently, eyes remaining closed. I'm still breathing heavily, having run all the way here just moments ago. With my chest rising and falling, I heave for air, desperate to be fully present.

He rests his forehead against my own, a gesture filled with heart, one that says 'I'm still here'. Hands still rest on the small of my back, pulling my in, holding me in place. Their firm and warm, and I never want them to leave.

It's perfect. Everything right now is perfect. For the first time in a year, my mind isn't running. I don't feel guilty about what happened, guilty for spending time with T and keeping things from Jonathan. I don't feel trapped, like my life is headed somewhere I don't truthfully want it to. And it's so fucking refreshing I want to scream.

He leans back in to kiss me once more. It's chaste and brief, but still manages to be everything to me. When his eyes meet my own, it feels private, intimate, like this is the world. This field and this land, with nobody around but us, together, alone.

There's something that needs to be said on my part, or asked on his. It hangs in the air, over our heads, ready to drop with the click of a tongue. It should be me, it's in regards to me. I need to say it first. He looks a little uneasy, worried almost, and I can change that.

"He's gone T." I tell him, shaking my head. But I make sure to smile, feeling the need to let him know that it's not a sad thing. That this is good, for both of us. That this is what I want.

I watch him take a deep breath, squeezing his hands lightly around my waist. His eyebrows raise in the center of his forehead. Relief washes over his face and he shoots me a weak smile. Everything is going to be ok.

The future is in the future, no need to worry about it now. Right now, I have him. His hair had been combed back smartly the night before, but now it falls loosely in front of his face, dangling before my eyes. I prefer it this way.

He cranes his neck and ducks his head to bring us together for the third time. He looms over me while smiling into the kisses. I can't help but smile back, teeth knocking and faint chuckles of gratitude leaving the pair of us.

I reach up to hold his head, caressing the nape of his neck and tangling my fingers in his hair. I hold him close to me as he rests his chin on my shoulder, neither of us wanting to move, unwilling to put any space between us.

"What are you going to do now?" I hear him whisper from behind me. It's muffled into my hair but still audible enough for me to hear, for it to wrap me in love. He's thinking about the future. He cares about time.

I gently rub his back, staring over hedges at the endless sea of green. They go on forever, I can't see them ending. It's utterly desirable. I place a light kiss on the side his neck before answering.

"Whatever makes me happy."